Work Text:
Dappled sunlight scudded over the map of Thedas that was spread across the war table, making the small ornaments twinkle as if they, too, could protest the early hour.
Leliana stifled a yawn, glancing at Josephine. Josephine clutched her wooden work board and idly sketched in the margins of her orders, a flower and a nug here, the tip of the quill making the line of an ear darker and darker as the seconds ticked on.
Cullen was staring down at the map with unfocused eyes, his fingers tapping out a slow beat against the edge of the table. Even if the meeting went completely on schedule, he was now counting the seconds he was going to be late for training with the soldiers. The line of his shoulders grew tenser as time ticked by, and Leliana looked to the door helplessly.
Inquisitor Mi’Lin Lavellan was usually the first one in the war room. Leliana would stride through the doors to find the tiny elf pouring over the huge map, her ink-dark hair slipping over her shoulders as she studied troop movements and travel routes with absolute focus. Lately, her punctuality had taken a hit. She barely showed up on time, always flush-faced and wobbly and trying to casually brush her sleek hair into order, jumping quickly into the day’s business as if hoping no one would notice the bite mark on her neck. It was no coincidence that these morning delays had coincided with the Inquisitor’s recent sharing of Solas’ quarters.
Leliana’s thoughts were interrupted with the groaning of the wooden door, creaking giving way to squeaking as the hallway slowly revealed itself. Josephine straightened, scratching out her flowers, as Cullen stood and placed his hands behind his back in a warrior’s rest.
Inquisitor Mi’Lin Lavellan strode into the war room with the straightest face she could muster. She winced at Leliana’s expression.
“Um. Sorry I’m late.” Her voice was just a little too loud to be comfortable.
Leliana’s keen eyes darted quickly over the small elf. Her rosy vallaslin were almost swallowed up by the blush on her cheeks.
“Do remind Solas to leave you functional,” Leliana quipped. “It would not do for the Inquisitor to need to be carried out of her room.”
Josephine stifled a laugh, blushing slightly.
“Sorry,” the Inquisitor repeated, but her shoulders had relaxed. The joke seemed to have soothed her.
“By all means continue, but have Solas be a little less thorough in his efforts next time.”
Josephine’s smile faltered to a giggle, and Cullen managed to look even more bewildered than usual.
“ … Ladies?” he asked.
The Inquisitor cleared her throat and stepped close to the map. “It isn’t of import, Commander. Leliana was simply commenting on Solas’… enthusiasm in his service of the Inquisition.”
Cullen’s eyebrows rose. “Oh. Is he training you?”
“Quite rigorously, it seems,” Leliana remarked.
Mi’Lin Lavellan cast a scathing glance at Leliana before admitting under her breath, “ … Around eight times, yes.”
“Eight!” Josephine gasped.
“Probably,” the Inquisitor grumbled. “I lost track.”
Josephine squeaked like a startled nug and tried to smother her giggles in her hand.
Cullen stared blankly at each of them in turn, his palm finding his neck in trademark awkwardness.
“Um – if I might – ” he cautiously interrupted. “I believe we had a… a meeting of some import? Something about saving Thedas?”
The Inquisitor coughed, turning her eyes to the map on the war table and bracing her palms against it. “Y-yes. Of course.” She cleared her throat again. “Josephine, have you had a chance to speak with that Comte you told me about? The one who lives by the coast and grows herbs, who said he might make a donation to the Inquisition?”
“Oh – oh yes, he – ” Josephine suddenly slipped into a high giggle that she did her best to stifle. “He’s sent along – oh dear, I am sorry – he’s given us several boxes of black lotus.” Josephine coughed, struggling to keep her voice level and failing. “Q-quite generous.”
The Inquisitor looked up. “How many boxes?”
Josephine snorted loudly and then dissolved into laughter again. “Eight!”
The Inquisitor’s face flushed again.
“Oh my,” Leliana teased. “Eight silky blooming lotuses. The Comte is indeedgenerous.”
Josephine sighed dreamily. “Oh, I hope I’m lucky enough to get that many – lotuses from a generous partner some day.”
Cullen folded his arms across his chest, scowling at the three women. “We’re not going to get any work done today, are we?”
“Don’t fret so much, Commander.” Leliana was still smiling as she leaned over the war table and examined the map. “Levity is good for morale. Perhaps you should see about getting some… lotuses of your own.”
Josephine had to slap a hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter, nearly doubling over. Cullen shot her a perturbed look before glaring at Leliana.
“You think that flowers will improve my mood?” he snapped.
“Oh no.” Leliana flashed him a smile. “But I dare say an orgasm or two might.”
Cullen’s face went red and Josephine finally had to sit down to avoid falling over as the laughter spilled out of her. Inquisitor Lavellan’s face was nearly as red as Cullen’s as she dragged her hand over it.
“Well, now everyone knows, I guess,” she murmured.
Cullen shifted his feet uncomfortably, his eyes darting from Leliana’s smirk to Josephine’s spasms of laughter to the Inquisitor’s blush, and finally he settled for staring at the war map. “ … Lotuses,” he grunted. “Eight lotuses. Right. Thank you, Leliana, you paint a quite vivid picture.”
“Oh, all of you are too excitable,” Leliana scolded with a smile. She picked up a small metal marker crested in a raven. “The Commander is right. We have work to do.”
—-
It had been a good day for the Inquisition. Several unrelated fronts had all turned up good results at once, and the morale was flowing as free as the ale. A good day for the Inquisition meant a good night, and a full tavern.
“Come ooooooon, Solas, cut loose for once. We all want to see you drunk.”
“You appear to think this is an argument that will sway me, Iron Bull.”
“Just three drinks with me, yeah? See if you can keep up.”
“Whether or not I can ‘keep up’ will have to remain one of life’s mysteries.”
Cullen sipped his way through his third pint of ale and tried to avoid staring at the other end of the table, where Iron Bull was fruitlessly trying to talk Solas into drinking heavily with the rest of them.
“Look, I’m just trying to see if it’s even possible for you to party.”
“It is.”
“Oh?”
“When I wish to.”
Cullen shifted on his seat uncomfortably, staring at his drink in flushed determination. If he looked at Solas, images were going to fill his head. Images of Inquisitor Mi’Lin Lavellan that did not fall under the category of “ways Cullen should be thinking about his superior.”
He’d been able to keep it quiet so far, but he’d liked the tiny rogue from the moment he’d met her.
“I didn’t get the chance to ask your name at the war table, Herald.”
The snow that fell over Haven caught in her dark hair, and her cheeks flushed under her pink elven markings. The little elf barely came up to his shoulder. “Oh, um – Mi’Lin Lavellan.” She extended a hand stiffly. “If we’re doing proper introductions.”
Cullen shook her hand, but frowned. “You sound unsure.”
Mi’Lin’s eyes slid closed and she cursed under her breath. “Commander, can I tell you a secret?”
“I – Of course.”
“Cassandra was barking a lot of questions when I first met her, and I don’t have a lot of experience with shems and I may have blurted out a fake name when she demanded to know what I was called by. Something to intimidate her.”
“Oh.” Cullen blinked. “Mi’Lin is… intimidating?”
“Almost comically. It means ‘blood weapon.’ In my panic, I forgot that you humans don’t speak Dalish and it wouldn’t sound very spooky to you.”
“So… you named yourself blood weapon to intimidate Cassandra?”
“My real name is Bora. It means ‘to throw.’”
“ … Oh.”
“I’d rather be called Mi’Lin if that’s all right.”
“I think I can understand that.”
Cullen sighed into his drink. It was hard enough to be nursing a secret crush on the Inquisitor without getting details of what she was like in bed. Now he couldn’t stop picturing her diminutive elven form spread naked on a bed and flushed in pleasure, shaking and sweaty, her back arching as she screamed her way through her eighth orgasm –
… Andraste take him, how did Solas give her eight? Cullen downed more of his ale, his head spinning, heat stirring in his belly. He’d never thought that his skills in bed were lacking, but now he had to wonder if there was an entire world of sexual pleasure he’d never learned to tap into…
Guiltily, his eyes darted to Solas. The elf was raising an eyebrow at Iron Bull’s scowl, a modest cup of ale in his hand.
… Maker’s breath, eight. What was Solas’ secret?
“Hey, Solas, where are you going?”
“I believe I am done drinking for the night.”
“Agh, balls, Solas, the sun’s barely set! Sit your scrawny ass back down and drink with us!”
Cullen slammed his empty tankard down on the table, his jaw setting in determination. He wrenched himself out of his seat and left his half-full cup behind, stalking after the elf through the crowded bar.
Solas had nearly made it to the tavern door before Cullen’s heavy hand landed on his shoulder.
“Solas – ” Cullen’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat and tried again, this time more quietly. “Solas, may I have a word?”
Solas gave him a quizzical look. “I suppose you may, Commander.”
Cullen nodded, probably more than he needed too, and clumsily dragged Solas away from the door and into the shadows in the corner. He cleared his throat, heat rising to his cheeks. Looking at Solas’ face made his heart pound because he kept imagining it between the Inquisitor’s legs.
Damn the ale, he shouldn’t have had so much.
“What’s your secret?” Cullen finally spilled out.
Solas pulled back. “Excuse me?”
“You know, your – secret.”
“I am curious what secrets you believe I have,” Solas asked sharply, “and why, if you believe them to be secrets, you think I would share them.”
“I just need to know how you do it.” Cullen gestured desperately. “The – the thing in bed. You know. Please.”
Solas’ eyebrows rose. “ … You want me to teach you… how to have sex.”
“I know how,” Cullen hissed. He shifted his weight uncomfortably, glancing around the bar to make sure no one was listening. “I need to know how to do it… reallywell.”
Solas’ frown had become deeply confused. “Commander, are… are you prepositioning me?”
“What? No!” Cullen rubbed a hand over his hot face. “I… I want to know how to please a woman. Please a woman several, um, times. And the Inquisitor has… ” He coughed, lowering his voice more and averting his gaze. “ … praised your ability.”
Solas’ face softened and a quiet laugh slipped out of him. He crossed his arms. “Has she?”
“Eight times,” Cullen grumbled, staring at his feet.
“Hm. I see.” Solas gave Cullen a smile and clapped his hand on the Commander’s shoulder. “I cannot tell you.”
Cullen blinked. “Wh– what?”
“It is hardly a simple secret. It is a matter of communication and experience.” Solas nodded briefly. “My advice? Practice.”
Cullen shook his head. “No, wait – there must be some trick – ”
“Good night, Commander.” Solas let go of Cullen’s shoulder and turned, striding towards the door. “I’ll try to leave our Inquisitor more functional tomorrow morning.”
It was the last straw. Cullen chased after Solas and grabbed his arm, holding him back from the door.
Solas rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed. “Commander – ”
“No one is that good by accident, there must be some technique!”
“Commander, please – ”
“Tell me your secrets, you mysterious bald apostate!”
“Commander, I really don’t think – ”
“Maker’s breath, Solas, at least teach me to give oral!”
Iron Bull’s chair scraped loudly against the floor as he spun around in his seat. “Hello.”
Solas let out a long groan through his teeth. “This is unseemly, Commander.”
“Pleeeeeeeease, Solas – ” Cullen clung desperately to the elf’s arm, nearly draping himself over the man. He mumbled drunk, desperate words into Solas’ shoulder. “I just want my next partner to feel special and I want to give her my very best and if you have some trick I need to know it – ”
“Very well,” Solas snapped. He grabbed a rough fistful of Cullen’s shirt and dragged him forward with surprising strength. “If it is the only way I will be rid of your pestering tonight.”
As Cullen staggered after Solas out of the bar, he could hear Iron Bull’s rowdy shout behind them.
“Yeeeeeah, teach him good, Solas! Looks like you can party!”
This close to the elf, Cullen could hear his exasperated sigh.
—-
Solas half-led, half-dragged the Commander away from the bar and up the stairs to the main keep, silent and stoic. Cullen craned his head back to stare at the high, vaulted ceiling as they walked through the main hall towards the throne. When Solas dragged him towards the door that lead to the Inquisitor’s quarters, he dug his heels in.
“W-we’re not allowed in there!” Cullen whispered urgently.
Solas shot him a dry look and retrieved a small key from his pocket. He unlocked the forbidden door, pushed it open, and shoved Cullen inside. Cullen staggered for a moment before regaining his footing, yelping as Solas immediately grabbed his arm and continued dragging him forward.
Cullen looked around nervously as they walked to the Inquisitor’s quarters. He hadn’t been in this part of Skyhold before, and a lot of what he saw seemed like a safety hazard. After all, before they had found it, Skyhold had been a ruined castle. Some parts of it – like this walkway – still clung stubbornly to ruin. As they walked along a precarious edge, Cullen was glad that the dizziness of ale was starting to clear from his mind.
“That’s a – that’s quite a drop,” he commented.
“Indeed,” Solas replied, tugging him closer and pulling him towards a second door, leading to a short staircase.
They walked up the stairs together, finally entering the Inquisitor’s room. Cullen’s heart almost stopped as he ascended the last step and saw her.
Inquisitor Mi’Lin Lavellan was spread on the bed in a vision of candle-lit skin. Her ink-black hair poured over her bare shoulders, every inch of her lean body bare to Cullen’s eyes. The bright, rosy lines of her vallaslin curved past her cheeks and down her neck, ending in elaborate twists along her collarbones, just above the soft small mounds of her breasts.
Cullen only had a moment to take all this in, heat plunging down from his stomach and into his groin, before the Inquisitor barked a curse and dove under the sheets like a startled nug.
“C-Commander Cullen!” stammered the pile of blankets. “I – I was positive that Solas was going to be the only person entering this room, I swear!”
Solas chuckled. “I did not realize you were this prepared for my arrival, vhenan. I would have given you some warning that we had company.”
Mi’Lin’s pink face poked out from under the blankets. Even her pointed ears were flushed where they stuck out of her messy hair. Her brown eyes darted to Cullen’s red face. “ … G-good evening, Commander,” she said crisply, as though greeting him for the first time.
“Don’t worry yourself, emma lath.” Solas gestured to Cullen as if presenting a gift. “Our noble Commander is here to learn.”
Mi’Lin blinked. She glanced at Cullen, then back at Solas, quirking an eyebrow. Solas chucked again and said something to her in Dalish, and Cullen may not have understood the words but it sounded dirty. Whatever the words were, they made the Inquisitor smile, nip her lip, and toss the blankets away.
Cullen had to swallow a curse, his knees nearly buckling. Soft skin soft hair lovely legs beautiful breasts pink pink pink between her legs so sweet –
“The Commander requires some… oral instruction,” Solas explained, his voice a distant buzz in the back of Cullen’s reeling mind. The elf strode towards the bed, leaving Cullen to stew in his daze. “He requested, most adamantly, that I share what I know.”
“That sounds like him.”
Cullen tried to piece together what exactly was happening. It was hard to think straight with the Inquisitor’s lean body sprawled naked before him like this, making unabashed eye contact and wearing a crooked little smile. Cullen had always found the Mi’Lin Lavellan attractive. She was built like a cat, small and quick and powerful. He’d watch her training with her bow and arrows on a tree just outside Haven, her arrows whistling through the cold air and thudding into the frosty tree bark. Cullen’s breath hitched each time her slender, careful fingers loosed an arrow.
Once, guiltily, Cullen had wondered what she looked like under her clothes. This… this was better than his imagination.
“I think we broke the Commander,” Mi’Lin remarked. Now that she was – evidently – satisfied with his reasons for being there, she was completely unabashed about her nakedness, propped up on her elbows with her legs just barely spread.
Solas chuckled. “You broke the Commander if anyone did.”
“I-I was expecting you’d just tell me!” Cullen spilled out in a rush, finally ripping his eyes away from the Inquisitor to stare at Solas.
Solas paused halfway through taking his shirt off, peering at the Commander. “Tell you what?”
Cullen blinked, his heart pounding. He’s going to… right in front of you… He licked his lips, trying to form words. “I… I th-thought maybe you’d say something like, ‘well, Cullen, the trick is to hum and think of turnips when you go down on a woman,’ s-something like that!” Cullen’s eyes darted back to Mi’Lin. “Maker’s breath, I didn’t think you were going to – ”
“I cannot teach if I cannot show.” Solas’ words were calm and crisp, as if he did this every day. He finished removing his shirt, neatly folding it before dropping it to the floor. “And I had a feeling Mi’Lin would enjoy helping.”
Mi’Lin cleared her throat. “Well, I want my Commander to be at his best. For. The Inquisition.”
Solas gave Cullen a nod as if that explained everything. “There you have it.” He crawled onto the bed, lean muscles on his back flexing in the candlelight. Mi’Lin’s legs shifted for him, her dark eyes lighting up as they dragged over her lover’s body. Cullen’s breath caught, his head spinning even though the buzz from the ale had left him.
“If you intend to learn anything, Commander,” Solas murmured, “you will need to step closer.”
Cullen swallowed. Slowly, he forced his heavy feet to move forward, each step an eternity. He didn’t stop until he was standing beside her bed, staring breathlessly down at the Inquisitor’s naked body, at Solas’ lean form between her spread legs.
As Cullen watched, Solas brushed his hand gently up Mi’Lin thigh.
“Viane, vhenan,” he whispered, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to the inside of her leg. She let out a breath, spreading herself wider, and Cullen’s mouth nearly watered. He always forgot how much he loved this, the sight of a woman’s bare body, the softness between her legs, tender and pink and sweet, so responsive to touch, hot and tight with need –
Solas’ fingers teased higher, tracing patterns on Mi’Lin skin, drawing shudders from her body. He brushed one finger along the soft crease where her thigh met her hip, nearly touching that sweet smooth pinkness that Cullen couldn’t take his eyes off of, and a gasp spilled from her lips. Cullen had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from making a similar noise. He couldn’t believe he was about to watch this beautiful woman being pleasured.
Solas brushed his hands up the insides of her thighs, coaxing them open. Mi’Lin complied with a soft breath, rolling her hips once. Solas’ grip shifted suddenly, his hands grabbing the Inquisitor’s thighs and pinning them in place. She moaned, her chest heaving. Solas leaned in, so close his breath was ghosting over her skin, so close he could stick out his tongue and touch the sweet slickness that Cullen could see glinting in the candlelight…
“I assume you know the basics,” Solas remarked, glancing up at Cullen.
Mi’Lin let out a frustrated curse and squirmed, her hips trying to buck up against his mouth. Solas held her in place calmly, not breaking eye contact with Cullen.
Cullen could barely breathe. Words were beyond him. He managed a stiff nod, unable to look away.
“Each partner is a different puzzle,” Solas began. His mouth was so close to her, so very close, that his lips almost brushed her with each word. “They do not all have the same solution. The only way to learn is to poke, and prod, tease, and test.”
Solas’ tongue slipped out, touching in one soft, light dab just above the place she so badly wanted it. Mi’Lin whined, trying to push her hips up again, but he held her down firmly.
“Experiment.” Solas‘ breath fogged against her. “Learn where to press, where to brush so softly she scarcely feels it… ”
“S-Solas – ” There was a warning edge to Mi’Lin’s voice, but it was blunted by arousal and need. Cullen was panting nearly as hard as she was, his own tongue resting on the cusp of his lip, desperate to be on her. He didn’t know how Solas could resist, being so close, nearly tasting her on the air…
“Learn the language of her body.” Solas leaned closer, warm breath against the slick heat between her legs, his lips almost touching her… “Learn what each breath means, each flex. Experiment, and learn which caresses will make her melt under your tongue… ”
Mi’Lin’s normally confident voice was a thin whine. “Solas – ”
“ … what steals her breath away, what brings her to the peak – ”
“Solas Solas Solas – ”
“ – what makes her cry out in ecstasy as she comes undone under your touch – ”
“M-maker’s breath, Solas,” Cullen interrupted, breathless. “J-just give her what she wants!”
A small smile twitched at the corner of Solas’s mouth. “That’s another lesson for you, Commander. Do not neglect the power of not touching her.”
Mi’Lin groaned a string of elven swear words and, grabbed Solas by the ear, trying to drag his face against her. “Solas I swear – ”
Solas tsked and pulled back, giving her a teasing smile. Slowly, gently, he took her wrists in his hands, pinning them to the bed. Mi’Lin glared at him, but she seemed to enjoy this game, panting as her hips pushed up desperately against the air.
“Your tongue is good for more than touching her,” Solas instructed calmly as his lover squirmed under him. “Tease her with your words before you even begin to pleasure her.”
With that, Solas lowered his head and dragged his tongue over her.
Mi’Lin let out a long, hungry moan, shuddering against the bed, and Cullen’s knees nearly gave out. Solas swirled his tongue in slow, light touches, effortlessly following the movement of her hips, not allowing her to grind against his tongue like she needed so badly –
“M-Maker’s breath – ” Cullen choked out.
Solas lifted his face, licking the shine off his lips. “You may want to get on the bed for this.”
Cullen swallowed. He realized he was still standing beside them in his full armor, cock stiff and straining in his pants. His face heated. It had been a while since he’d been in bed with a naked woman, and he had never been in bed with a woman and a man. “A-ah, a-are you – sure?”
Solas cocked an eyebrow. He looked down at the Inquisitor’s flushed, panting face. “Would you like the Commander in your bed, vhenan?”
Mi’Lin’s hazy eyes turned towards him, locking Cullen in place. She shuddered, her hands twisting in Solas’ hold.
“Now,” she ordered breathlessly.
Cullen’s hands were yanking his boots off before he realized he was moving.
The bed covers were plush green silk, the finest Orlais could offer. Cullen was bulky and battle-stained, his armor rattling as his knees hit the edge. He shrugged off his plate mail and under armor, stripping until he wore no more than a thin undershirt and simple pants.
His eyes never strayed from Mi’Lin, though, the way her head tossed as Solas teased her, his flicking tongue and heavy breath making Cullen’s cock twitch as he climbed onto her opulent covers, positioning himself clear of the couple.
Mi’Lin twisted one of her arms free of Solas’ grip and it shot to Cullen’s thigh, twisting in the material of his pants as she huffed an aroused breath, tugging his leg closer. He inched towards her, trying not to jostle the bed as he did so. He felt oversized next to the pair of slender elves, too big and clumsy and hairy, like a mabari trying to cozy up to a pair of cats.
Mi’Lin’s hand wandered up Cullen’s leg with an obvious destination in mind. Her slim fingers pressed against his thigh, so close, the same fingers that loosed arrows with deadly accuracy.
“Vhenan, our Commander is trying to concentrate on learning.” Solas chastised.
The Inquisitor let out a frustrated noise and her hand slid off his thigh. Cullen bit his lip hard, his cock twitching in his pants, inches from where her fingers had been.
“Once he has been taught,” Solas breathed against her tense belly, kissing it, “thenwe can reward him. Patience.”
Cullen had no idea what “reward” was going to mean, but it made his heart race.
Solas brushed his hand up his lover’s thigh, whispering soft elven words against her hip. Lavellan let out a half-anguished noise, rolling her hips. Cullen swallowed, looking back at Solas and wondering how on earth this man had the patience to not devour her. Solas’ thumb rubbed over her clit in slow circles, drawing shivering moans from her as he spoke.
“A living body is an incredible instrument, Commander. If you are observant, and patient, and dedicated, you can learn to make every inch of her sing.” His thumb flicked over her, light and teasing, and Mi’Lin’s toes curled against the sheets. “Again. And again.”
His thumb pressed in one slow, firm rub. The Inquisitor’s back arched off the bed, her cries of pleasure echoing through the room.
“ … And again,” Solas concluded with a smile as his lover collapsed panting against the bed.
Cullen didn’t think he would ever remember how to breathe properly again.
“Make no mistake,” Solas continued, fixing Cullen in place with his gaze, “you must practice if you are to learn. Each lover is different. My prowess can be attributed to practice and communication, no more. I have taken the time to understand my lover’s body and listen to her desires.”
“Fen’Harel ar ghilana, yes you have,” Mi’Lin laughed breathlessly, staring dizzily at the vaulted ceiling. Her dark hair was a silky mess across the pillows and across her flushed face, and Cullen didn’t think she’d ever looked so beautiful.
“For example… ” Solas slipped his thumb over her, and Mi’Lin gasped. “I know that my love can keep going for a long, long time after her first. And I know that it’s quite easy to make her climax a second time with the right stimulation. Commander, would you care to assist me?”
Cullen’s eyes snapped up to Solas’s face. “A-assist?” he choked out.
Mi’Lin gave him a shaky smile. “You wanted to learn, right?”
“I mean – It’s just – Maker’s breath, am I allowed to–?”
Mi’Lin took his wrist and dragged his hand onto her body. Cullen nearly choked on his tongue as his hand brushed the silky-soft skin of her breast.
“Touch her,” Solas ordered, settling down between his lover’s legs once more. “If you want to see her climax a second time.”
Cullen swallowed hard. He could feel the rise and fall of Mi’Lin’s chest under his bare hand, feel the heat of her body. She was hard and soft all at once, smooth skin and plush breasts, firm muscle and rough scars.
“Y-you’re teasing me worse than Solas does,” Mi’Lin accused breathlessly.
Cullen bit his tongue and gave her a delicate, gentle squeeze. The sight and sound and feel of her went straight to his cock, hot pulses that took his breath away. He let out a thin groan and squeezed her again, still gently.
Mi’Lin’s eyes fluttered closed and she let out a pleased purr, pushing up into his hand. When her mouth fell open in a gasp, Cullen could tell that Solas’ tongue was between her legs again, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her face to confirm.
“A-ah, y-yes… ”
Panting, Cullen brushed his thumb over the tender pink bump of her nipple. It gave like silk under his touch, and Mi’Lin let out a moan in response. Cullen pinched gently, a soft roll and then a twist, and her whole body shuddered.
“Harder,” Solas pressed, his voice muffled.
Cullen slid both of his hands onto her, one over each small breast, and squeezed hungrily. When she only groaned in response, breathing out a shaky “m-more!” he grabbed both of her soft, pink nipples between his fingers and pinched hard.
“Aaah – !” For the second time that night, Mi’Lin’s beautiful body arched off the bed as she came. Her chest pressed up into Cullen’s hands, heaving with the swell of her breath, and Cullen almost came in his pants. Mi’Lin let out a shuddering gasp and finally went limp against the mattress, panting. Cullen quickly removed his tingling hands.
Solas lifted his head from between her legs, licking his lips. “Good job, Commander.”
Mi’Lin stretched her legs against the bed with a content sigh. “I helped him.”
Solas chuckled. “Very good, vhenan.”
“Thank you, hahren,” she teased. This drew another chuckle from Solas.
Cullen couldn’t help but feel he was being left out of some kind of elven joke. He might have made mention of it if it weren’t for the tightness of his pants and the dryness of his mouth.
Solas sat up. “So, Commander. Do you feel suitably educated?”
“I… yes, I think so.” Cullen stammered, his hands warm, his pants uncomfortably tight.
“Would you like to put your new knowledge to practice?” Solas asked.
“P-p– ” Cullen’s gaze dropped hungrily to the bare elven women spread beneath him before snapping up to Solas again. “P-practice?”
“Certainly. Otherwise, how will you learn?”
Uncertain of how to answer, Cullen glanced between the two elves. Mi’Lin gave him a cocky smile, her cheeks ruddy with passion, but Solas seemed just as calm as ever.
“U-um… ” He swallowed. “L-lead on, then.”
Mi’Lin’s small grin broke into a broad smile. With an agility that he didn’t think anyone could have right after orgasm, she sprang up and pounced into his lap.
“You’re wearing too much for that,” she murmured, sneaking her hands under his shirt.
She coaxed it off over his head, which Cullen clumsily assisted, then gave him a little push that sent him off balance. The next thing Cullen knew, he was panting on his back, sprawled on the Inquisitor’s bed wearing no more than a thin pair of pants as she straddled his chest, and he could feel – Maker help him – a warm smear of slick against his chest. As he watched, Mi’Lin chewed her soft lip and made a slow, rolling grind against him. He could feel soft slickness dragging between the bulges of his pectoral muscles.
“M-Maker – ” The word slipped out of him in a reverent breath, half shock and half worship.
Solas’ voice was sharp, direct. “Do you want to taste her?”
Cullen bit down a whine. His cock was rigid in his pants, twitching at the thought. “Y-yes.”
He felt slim, strong hands wrapping around his wrists, pulling them above his head. Mi’Lin lifted herself closer to his face, holding herself over him with a teasing smirk, close enough that her soft pink sex was all he could see. His mouth watered at the taste on the air. Cullen panted, his hot breath just reaching her. His hands clenched where Solas was pinning them down.
“Ask for it.”
Cullen’s breath hitched, his hips jerking with need. “ … P-please. I… I want to taste her.”
Solas tsked. “Don’t ask me. Ask her.” His voice lowered into a low command that had Cullen’s heart hammering. “And ask her properly.”
“M-Maker, please – ” Cullen stared up the length of the slim body poised over his own. His face heated at his own words. “P-please… r-ride my face.”
Mi’Lin’s breath hitched and she pressed down against his eager tongue. The first slick taste had Cullen groaning in need. His eyes were half-lidded and hazy with pleasure as she settled against his face. Cullen let out a long, shuddering whine, his cock leaking in his pants as she ground down against his tongue. He struggled to remember Solas’ lesson amid the distraction of an aroused woman on his face, trying to manage some finesse and not just devour her. Each sharp gasp and low moan and breathless elven curse made it harder to concentrate.
“Good,” Solas praised. “Focus on her reactions, her breath.”
Solas’ grip on Cullen’s wrists slipped away, one hand moving to the back of the Commander’s head, tilting it up to give Mi’Lin a better angle. Cullen shuddered, keeping his wrists obediently in place even though they were no longer pinned down. A deep, subordinate part of him was thriving under instruction. He muffled a whimper against Mi’Lin’s pussy as she rode his tongue in hot grinds, wetness smearing over his chin. Solas’ firm hand held him in place, letting her move as she pleased, urging him into the proper angle.
A soft, muffled moan and the unmistakeable sound of lips meeting made Cullen’s pulse skip. He looked up. Solas was kissing Mi’Lin, tasting the pleasure of her moans while Cullen was buried between her legs.
Mi’Lin’s hand was undoing Solas’ breeches. Cullen panted against her between hungry licks, his gaze darting between the slick sweetness grinding against his face and the obvious bulge in Solas’ clothing. He barely breathed as Mi’Lin’s quick fingers slipped her lover’s cock free.
It was sleek and pink and smooth and curved upward ever so slightly and it was definitely another man’s dick and Cullen couldn’t seem to take his eyes off it. Mi’Lin’s slender fingers were tracing over it with the same confidence and precision that she brought to her bow and arrows. Cullen panted against her as he watched. Solas’ cock was pointed straight at his face, leaking slightly each time Mi’Lin stroked it.
“I think our Commander has earned a reward,” Mi’Lin murmured.
Solas chuckled in response. “I think he has.”
The tiny elf moved, quick and light, straddling Cullen and facing his feet so he got a view of her long dark hair pouring down her back, almost reaching her cute round butt. She settled back on his face before he could catch a breath. When Cullen felt her fingers dance over his cock, he moaned loud enough to echo off the walls and his hips bucked, almost throwing her off the bed.
Merciful Andraste, he was so hard that those first soft touches almost sent him over the edge. Each press of her fingertips was too much, a sweet hot need that made him dizzy.
The mattress dipped as Solas shifted. Cullen looked up and swallowed as he saw the elf’s cock hanging over his face, bumping against Mi’Lin’s slick pussy. It was close enough that if he stuck his tongue out, he’d taste both of them.
“Oh M-Maker – ”
Solas dragged the smooth head of his cock over her pussy once, slow and teasing, then began to lazily slide inside. Cullen’s breath steamed against them as he panted, listening to Mi’Lin moan, feeling the rumble of it against his dick. Her fingers danced up and down his shaft, her hungry lips working over the head and her tongue – Cullen could barely breathe as he watched Solas sink into her again and again, the slick noise of his cock burying itself in her tight pink squeeze –
Cullen’s grabbed her hips suddenly, panting, transfixed by the sight. He lifted his face to drag his tongue over her clit. He could feel her shudder, hear her gasp against his cock. He didn’t even care that his swirling tongue was dragging over Solas’ cock as it pumped into her, that the elf’s balls were on his face as he ate out the girl they were sharing. The stubble on his chin scratched her thighs as he devoured both of them, sucking hungry kisses over her clit and Solas’ shaft alike, moaning against them.
Solas growled under his breath, and Cullen shuddered when he felt a hand grab his hair. The elf’s thrusts quickened, and Cullen’s heart pounded, keeping his mouth open so Solas could fuck his tongue and his lover’s pussy at the same time. Mi’Lin lifted her mouth off of Cullen’s cock with a gasp, shuddering above him.
“Y-you sound close, vhenan,” she panted.
Solas growled again, his hips stuttering. “Where do you want it?”
Words spilled from Cullen’s lips before he could think them through.
“Do it on my face,” he begged. “Please.”
Solas didn’t need to be asked twice. He dragged his shaft out of his lover, his cock already twitching. As soon as it slipped free, a creamy splatter shot across Cullen’s face. Cullen panted, his eager mouth open as hot wet streaks covered his face and tongue. A glistening string still connected his slick lips to Lavellan’s pussy, her legs still quivering as she moaned around his cock –
The air punched out of Cullen and his back arched off the bed as his climax hit him. His cock throbbed in the elf’s hands and pulsed down her throat. Mi’Lin gasped as she came up for air, stroking him through each dizzying pulse of pleasure, dragging her tongue over his pulsing slit as Cullen made a proper mess of the expensive Orlesian silks.
He caught his breath. The world seemed to spin above him. The mattress squeaked as Solas flopped down on the bed beside him.
“Are you all right, vhenan?” Solas panted.
Mi’Lin wiped her face off with a laugh. She hopped delicately off the bed, her legs wobbling a little as she picked up a discarded shirt. “I think the Commander just tried to drown me.”
Cullen swallowed and his spent cock twitched when he saw what he’d done to her. Mi’Lin’s beaming face was drenched in his come, dripping down her chest. She looked like she couldn’t be happier.
“Only fair,” Solas shot back, “when you spent so long drowning him between your legs.”
Mi’Lin made a face at Solas and finished wiping herself clean. She tossed the shirt to Cullen and he caught it more by reflex than conscious thought. He stared at it for a moment before realizing that he was supposed to wipe his face off with it.
… Because two elves had just come all over his face. Cullen stared at the shirt for a moment before wiping his face off.
Mi’Lin yawned, stretching her slim arms and arching her back. “I’m ready for sleep.”
“I as well.” Solas slipped out of bed and kicked off his pants. He waved a hand, and every candle in the room went dark, leaving the room illuminated only by the light of the moon and the stars. The come-soaked shirt was still dangling from Cullen’s hand, but Mi’Lin plucked it from his grip and tossed it into the corner.
“You’re a mess,” Solas accused, crawling back into bed.
Mi’Lin scowled at him. “I’m Inquisitor.”
“A messy Inquisitor.”
Mi’Lin sighed, climbed into bed, climbed over Cullen, and snuggled under the sheets between the two men. Cullen’s knees still felt wobbly from his climax, and he was just worrying that he wouldn’t be able to walk home when he realized that neither of them had asked him to leave.
Mi’Lin yawned again. “Good night, Solas. Good night, Cullen.”
Solas chuckled and folded his arms behind his head. “Good night, noble leaders of the Inquisition.”
Briefly, Cullen wondered if he should offer to leave. But both elves were already snoring. Cullen shrugged, smiled, and snuggled under the covers.
“Good night, cute elves,” he sighed.
“Compliment appreciated,” Solas murmured.
Cullen’s cheeks flushed, but sleep was beckoning and he didn’t have a good reply.
—-
The hazy gloom of dawn poured through Skyhold’s windows and across the Inquisitor’s bed. Cullen blinked his eyes open to find Mi’Lin curled up beside him, already awake and watching him with unfiltered affection.
“Good morning,” Cullen murmured, smiling sleepily.
The Inquisitor’s sharp brown eyes were soft and relaxed. There was something different about her now, somehow even more than last night. She seemed more at ease, more raw than he’d ever seen her. The warm haze of a lover’s bed made Cullen bold, and he leaned over her for a kiss. She returned it with a purr, her slim body wriggling closer to his under the sheets.
The mattress shifted as Solas began to stir. He hummed sleepily, wrapping an arm around his lover and nuzzling her neck as she kissed Cullen.
“Good morning,” Solas murmured into her shoulder.
“Mmm.” Mi’Lin pulled away from Cullen’s lips long enough respond. “Can I have all of my mornings like this?”
Solas chuckled and returned to peppering kisses down her shoulder as Mi’Lin sunk back into Cullen’s kiss. Cullen’s calloused fingers traced gently up her slight form, teasing over the softness of her breast, the ridge of a scar, the firm bump of a nipple. He moaned against her mouth when he felt a hand wrap gently around his own stiffening shaft, stroking him into firmness.
Cullen’s arousal was at full mast, twitching against soft elven fingers. He cupped Mi’Lin’s breast and gave her nipple a teasing squeeze. She groaned and cupped his face in her hands, pulling him deeper into the kiss with a passion that took his breath away. It took a few moments for Cullen to register that both of her hands were pressed against his stubble-dusted jaw, but there was still a hand between his legs, slowly stroking his cock.
Solas purred into Mi’Lin’s neck, and his hand squeezed.
The knowledge that another man was pleasuring him didn’t even make Cullen flinch. Maybe it should have felt odd, but it didn’t. The slow, skillful motions of Solas’ hand were just as good as Mi’Lin’s had been. His mind was starting to wander to things he wanted to try, ways he could spend the day in bed with the pair of them, when Mi’Lin suddenly yanked back from the kiss with a startled yelp.
“Shit, the sun’s up!”
Cullen blinked at her in surprise. “Yes, I hear that happens every morning.”
Solas cleared his throat, sitting up in the bed. “I believe our Inquisitor is worried that she’ll be late for the war council.”
Cullen’s face flushed red. He launched himself out of bed and started yanking his clothes on. He could hear the Inquisitor doing the same, muttering elven curses under her breath.
“See you tonight, vhenan,” Solas called. He yawned, stretching against the sheets. His stiff cock was lying against his lean stomach, and for a moment, Cullen froze halfway through putting his armor on so he could stare at it.
Mi’Lin slung her bow over her shoulder. “See you tonight, Solas!”
“See you tonight, Commander.”
“See you – wait a moment –”
Mi’Lin grabbed Cullen’s arm and dragged him down the stairs before he could process what had just happened.
—-
Cullen and the Inquisitor burst into the war council’s meeting room with red faces, slamming the doors open. Josephine and Leliana both blinked at them as they caught their breath.
“ … Ladies,” Cullen greeted stiffly. He swallowed and hoped his voice didn’t crack. “G-good morning.”
The Inquisitor cleared her throat loudly and strode towards the war table. “N-new reports?”
The four of them gathered around the map of Thedas. Leliana’s eyes never left Cullen. He met her gaze firmly, his heart pounding, his cheeks burning. Leliana didn’t say a word.
“We have received some new shipments from our allies,” Josephine began, breaking the silence. “Arms and armor for the recruits from Fereldan, coin from Orlais.”
“Any news from our gardening Comte?” Mi’Lin asked, her arms braced on the map.
“His shipment is still en route.”
“Hardly a concern,” Leliana dismissed. “We’re getting plenty of lotuses right here in Skyhold. Aren’t we, Commander?”
Cullen nearly choked on his tongue.